


It's Cold Outside

by silkarc



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Comedy, F/F, Fluff, Korrasami - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 09:39:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5661655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkarc/pseuds/silkarc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story - A sudden snowstorm leaves Asami stranded in a nearby hotel, and as luck would have it the last room just got taken by another woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Freezing

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, no edits, just a quick story

I wait patiently while the woman in front of me speaks to the hotel receptionist, catching the occasional word.

“Yeah it’s a pretty bad one, might have to stay a few nights,” the woman says.

She isn’t wrong - this blizzard came from nowhere, and wasn’t even on the forecast. The roads became unsafe in less than an hour, and for every minute that I’m stood in line here, it seems to get even wilder out there. I take my drenched gloves off, stuffing them into my coat pocket.

“Oh, you’re in luck, we have one left on the top floor,” the receptionist says. I blink slowly, realisation hitting me. I’m going to have nowhere to stay, I’m stuck here, and just as I’m starting to have a mild panic attack the woman turns to face me. The first thing I notice is that she has gorgeous, sparkling blue eyes, and the second thing I notice is that she’s asking me a question, which I’ve accidentally ignored.

“Sorry, what did you say?” I ask, nervously grabbing at a long strand of my hair. She laughs, but it isn’t a cruel sound, and folds her arms.

“I asked if you wanted to share, unless you have somewhere else to go?”

“It’s a double room,” the guy behind the desk explains.

“Well, I…” I’m not sure what to say, though I’m pretty sure I have no other option right now. For some reason I can’t bring myself to go along with it, though. I mean, this woman is a stranger. Gorgeous, yes, but a complete stranger. A stranger with amazing eyes, beautiful, bronze skin, and a smile that would melt anyone’s heart. She’s probably straight.

“Hmm, suit yourself,” the woman says, then turns to the desk and begins to fill out paperwork. Come on Asami, stop being a sourpuss, I think. This could be fun. It’s not strange at all to want to crash with a hot woman you just met. But all of that aside, I need a room, and therefore this is the only practical solution right now.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” I ask, fiddling in my handbag for my wallet, “I mean, I can pay…”

“We can go halves,” the woman says abruptly, turning to flash me a soul-destroying grin.

“Deal. I’m Asami,” I say, holding my hand out, wondering if I’m shaking from the cold or from something else.

“Korra,” she says, somehow managing to grin more widely still. Her palm feels warm in mine, and she has a firm grip, like I can feel power radiating from it, “Uh…” she says, looking down at our hands, where I’m still busy shaking hers.

“Oh, sorry,” I say, quickly pulling my hand away.

“Well, here are your keys. You ladies have fun, and call down if you need anything,” the receptionist says, holding out two key cards.

“Shall we?” Korra gestures towards the elevator, and I smile, wondering what the night could have in store.


	2. Cold

“Huh, it’s bigger than I expected,” I say, scanning the interior of the room. It’s fairly plain, with the usual magnolia coated walls adorned with pictures of random scenery. There’s two queen sized beds, a twin wardrobe, and a large screen plasma TV.

“Yeah, this’ll do,” Korra says, opening the bathroom door, “Yes! There’s a bath. I hate it when these places only have showers.”

“I prefer showers. Quick and easy,” I say, while throwing my laptop carrier and handbag onto the side table by the first of the two beds, “mind if I take this one?”

“Sure, I’m easy,” Korra says, sitting on the edge of the other bed and tugging at her trainers. I do the same, removing my thick coat and hanging it in the wardrobe, then removing my fur-lined boots.

Korra busies herself flicking through TV channels, most of which are barely viewable due to the storm, and I pull my laptop out so that I can finish off my tasks for the day. Mainly just emailing clients, and apologising for not being able to make today’s meetings. By the time I’m done, I close the laptop lid, and peer across at my unexpected neighbour. She’s taken off her outdoor wear, is laying back on her bed with her arms behind her head in nothing but a vest and underwear, and I can’t help but stare. She has such clear muscle definition, in her arms, her legs, her abdomen… She catches me staring, and I feel my cheeks burn very suddenly.

“Uh, do you work out or something?” I ask, trying to prevent myself staring even longer.

“All the time - I’m a sports coach,” she says, winking at me.

“Ah, I see,” I say, trying to keep my voice level, “what field do you teach?”

“Long jump and hurdles,” she says, turning to her side to face me and resting her head on a palm, “I like to do weights, too.”

“That explains the arms then,” I mutter, noticing that the arm supporting the weight of her head has a perfectly-sized, tense bicep.

“Say again?”

“I said, I like firearms,” I lie. Well, it’s a half-truth. Korra’s eyes droop, and I wonder what I’ve said wrong.

“I hate guns,” she says, turning away and facing the television again.

“No no,” I stutter, and she tilts her head, cocking an eyebrow, “I mean antique ones. Disabled. Ornamental. Swords too,” I babble, and there’s a sudden glint of amusement in her eyes.

“Do you have any big ones?”

“Pardon?”

“Swords!” she says.

“Uh, yes, swords of all shapes and sizes,” I say, pulling my mobile phone out to hunt for some pictures, “like these,” I say, passing the phone along.

She scans through the pictures with an occasional hum of approval, remaking that the dual katanas are a definite favourite. Then she suddenly turns bright red, drops the phone on the bed, and I remember that there are other pictures on there, pictures that a stranger should definitely not be looking at. I quickly grab the handset, feeling beyond embarrassed.

“Those are just… well, I’m on a diet, you see, and I have to track my body shape, and-”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Korra winks, having recovered her composure, unlike me, “besides, you look pretty toned yourself.”

“Uh, thanks,” I say, hoping that my cheeks aren’t as bright as they feel. I tell Korra all about my training routine, she becomes very animated, and the next thing I know she’s actually demonstrating some of her techniques on the hotel floor. I am so gay, so very very gay, is all I can think as I watch her launch herself into a barrage of one-handed press-ups.


	3. Chilly

Sleep doesn’t come easy.

For the first half hour, I think about how early I need to wake up if I’m to be in the office in time for our critical business meeting tomorrow. I sneak off my bed and towards the window, treading quietly since Korra is fast asleep, and I barely hold back a sound of dismay when I see thick, white flakes floating down onto an already endless expanse of white.

I spend the hour after that worrying that I’ll never make it in tomorrow, and that if the weather doesn’t break soon, maybe even the day after that. Being in the ass-end of nowhere doesn’t help - who knows when the roads will be cleared? At this rate I’ll have to do a conference call, which means I’ll have to politely ask Korra to be quiet, which is going to come across as rude since-

“Can’t sleep?” a voice asks me grogilly, and Korra turns to face me with a lop-sided, sleepy smile.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” I ask, feeling pretty terrible if I did.

“No, I need to pee,” she says, stumbling out of bed and heading to the washroom without another word.

I head back to my bed, and a minute or two later I hear a flush followed by the sound of running water. The door opens and Korra walks out mid-stretch, her vest raised over her abdomen just enough so that I catch a glimpse of her… Oh my. I lick my suddenly-dry lips, and watch her climb back into bed, cocooning herself tightly into the blankets and almost instantly falling back to sleep.

My mind wanders as I watch her sleeping form. She really does have an amazing figure, and she’s obviously a kind soul since she offered to share this room. I wonder if she’s single. _Whoa, hold on there Sato, where is your mind going? Earlier you felt sure she were straight, and now you’re thinking about her relationship status? Calm down_. That’s what I tell myself. However, my mind doesn’t do as it’s told, and I spend the next hour thinking about those shapely legs of hers, wrapped around my waist. It’s been too long, way, way too long since I had human company. That’s what this is. Maybe when I get back home I’ll bite the bullet and try a dating site.

A sudden, loud snort disturbs my less-than-clean thoughts, and it’s followed by one of the loudest snores I’ve ever heard in my life. This woman must have ox-lungs to be able to make those noises, I mean, the floor is practically rumbling with every breath she takes. Thankfully I did pack earplugs, and I quietly fish them out of my bedside drawer, rolling my finger and thumb on the tips to thin them, then prodding them in each ear hole. I can still hear her through them, but it’s not too bad, and sleep finds my tired mind at last.

Unfortunately this allows my brain to do as it pleases, and I spend most of the night dreaming that I’m having very loud, raucous sex with the delicious stranger I’m lodging with. We’re tangled up, grinding against each other, and I’m gasping for air, sure that I’m going to come again. I’ve lost count of the times this has happened now, it’s like I’m stuck in a perpetual sex-loop with her, not that I’m complaining. And then it shoots through me, yet another orgasm, and I yell her name, losing myself to my pleasure, to my shameful lust.

“ _Ah! Korra!_ ”

“Uh…”

I blink a few times, feeling exhausted, dizzy, and hot from head to toe. I peer to my left to see the literal woman of my dreams gawping at me, stood in her sweatshirt and jogging pants, and it takes me a few painful moments to put together the pieces.

“Did I just…”

She blushes, and nods, affirming my fears. “Shit,” I say, putting my face in my palm, wishing a hole would swallow me up, “What time is it?” I ask, quickly trying to change the subject.

“It had just turned nine when I left the gym.”

“Right. Gym. Wait, nine?!” I exclaim. I forgot to set my phone alarm, the meeting is in an hour and I’ll never make it even if the snow has cleared. _Shit, shit shit!_ I panic, reaching for my laptop, then breathing a huge sigh of relief when I see a barrage of emails from others who couldn’t make it. Seems the storm is more widespread than I’d thought.

Korra pulls a bottle of water from her bag and takes a long swig. “What was that all about?”

“Just a meeting I was meant to get to today…”

“Doubt we’ll be going anywhere, it’s twelve inches out there.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. And maybe more on the way.”

“Shit. Well, I’ll be having a conference call later… uh, is there anywhere private I can do it?”

“Use this room, I’ll give you space.”

“Thanks. Really. For everything… you’ve been fantastic,” I say, meaning every word.

“In more ways than one, by the sounds of it,” she says, winking slyly. She means the dream, I know she does, and I’m trapped between feeling frightfully embarrassed or a little excited that she might actually be flirting with me.

Maybe the storm isn’t such a bad thing, after all.


	4. Warm

The meeting is one of the strangest ones I’ve arranged, with at least half of the attendees having to dial in on our massive conference call. Still, by some miracle it worked with only the occasional internet failure, and I’ve managed to cross most things off the agenda. 

I stand from the desk, and peer out the window. It’s starting to get dark already, maybe due to the still-raging blizzard out there, which is howling loud enough to be heard through the thick double-glazed window. It seems that the storm is going to last a few days, and the hotel has put on special deals for those of us trapped here, free meals, that kind of thing. I’ll be sure to write a letter of thanks when I eventually get out of this mess.

A knock at the door rouses me from my daydream, followed by the door very slowly and quietly being prised opened, and a blue-eyed goddess nervously peeking around the side.

“Come in, we’re all finished,” I beam, strolling back to the desk and folding my laptop closed.

“How did it go?” Korra asks, closing the door behind. She’s brought a couple of cups of coffee, one of which she hands to me.

“Oh, thanks. Um, it went really well. I’ve set everything in motion…”

“Oh, you in charge or something?” she asks, jumping on her bed and flipping the TV on.

“Uh yeah, you could say that,” I say, smiling. Fate is a funny thing. No sooner have I spoken the words and the TV has flickered into life, than Korra’s face turns pale, and she looks quickly between the screen and myself as though she’s seen a ghost.

“Waist… Asami SATO?” she asks, wide-eyed, and that’s when I turn to see whatever it is that’s gotten her so riled up. It’s a weird feeling, seeing yourself on television, but there I am. 

“Huh, I should have worn number 54 red, it looks so much better on me…” I think out loud, watching myself answer the usual tedious interview questions.

_“Miss Sato - What’s it like as a woman owning the biggest beauty chain in the states?”  
_

_“Probably not dissimilar to how it’d be as a man,”_ the television me answers, smiling ever so sweetly but as I distinctly recall wanting to punch him in the face.

“Shit, I knew your face looked familiar! You do all that lipstick and shit!” Korra babbles, then grins cheekily, “So, I’m roomies with a prissy, rich CEO? hah!”

“ _Prissy?_ ” I snort, head to my own bed and make myself comfortable above the duvet, then turn to pout at my offender. I feel the sudden urge to drag her to one of my racetracks and show her a thing or two, if only the weather weren’t so dreadful.

“Hah! Sorry. That was rude,” Korra says, looking genuinely apologetic. “You know, I tried buying your stuff once, but I’m terrible at using it…”

“Oh, makeup? Well, you don’t _have_ to wear it to look good,” I say, finding myself staring into her inquisitive eyes, “sometimes people have a naturally beautiful complexion, like you.”

There’s a brief silence, I swear she blushes, and I know I do because I didn’t actually mean to make such a bold statement, even though it’s completely true.

“Well, uh, thanks…” she says, “You’re pretty easy on the eye too.”

I manage to recover my composure. “Is that a compliment?” I tease, feeling the sudden urge to flirt with her.

“I’m sure you’ve heard it all before,” she smiles, and raises an eyebrow.

“You’d be surprised,” I mutter. It’s true, though. So many people are intimidated by me, even though I don’t even try to belittle them, and so they don’t flatter me… I guess because they think I’ll take it the wrong way. 

“Well, I’ve seen you with and without makeup, and I’d say you’re beautiful.”

I feel heat flush to my cheeks at her words… I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a direct compliment. Not a genuine one, off the cameras, aimed at me, personally. 

“You’re one of the few to see me without makeup…”

“Lucky me,” she grins.

“Lucky you.” I smile, “any good movies on tonight? I can order us some food up if you like… My way of saying thanks for giving me the room for the meeting.”

“Are you forgetting the food is free?” Korra grins.

“Smart ass. But still, me going to the effort of ordering the food is worth something, no?”

“No more than me going to the effort of finding a movie.”

“Touché,” I say, smirking. I’ve suddenly decided that I’m going to kick back and enjoy myself with this one, even if it’s a short, fleeting moment. You only live once.


	5. Hot

Korra is a messy eater. She’s been assaulting her plate of hot wings with great gusto, and she sticks another one into her mouth, sucking the meat and batter clean off the bone.

“Something the matter?” she asks, sucking her fingers dry one at a time, and I realise just in time that I’m staring as she does it, my mind racing with thoughts of other things that she could be sucking off them.

I cough into a napkin to clear my throat. “Not at all. You seem to be enjoying the food,” I say, smiling to reassure her. 

“It’s great! We should definitely tip,” she says, finishing off her second glass of white wine, bringing her up to par with me.

“Oh I intend to. The staff are dealing with all of this marvellously, especially when you consider that they’re stuck here too.”

“I’d never thought about that. Maybe I’ll ask if they need a hand.”

“Me too, if we’re still stuck here tomorrow.”

“I think we will be,” Korra says, staring glumly at the TV screen. She eventually gave up on finding a movie, and we’re currently looking at the news and weather.

_“… the worse for fifty years, with some homes losing power. Government officials are sending out rescue services where needed, and urge people not to panic.”_

“Missing your family?” I ask, trying to casually pry. If she’s married, she isn’t wearing a ring.

“It’s not that. I live on my own… but I was meant to help my friend Opal with training tomorrow,” she says, frowning whilst looking at her phone screen, “from the looks of things she’s stuck too.”

“Yeah. I hate bring trapped here… makes me feel kind of powerless.”

“I guess that’s rare for a prissy CEO,” Korra smirks. Without thinking I prod my fork into the only meatball I have left and fling it right at her. It splats loudly on her forehead, she looks at me wide-eyed, and I wonder what the hell came over me, perhaps the wine, but before I can apologise she sticks her fingers into her dipping sauce and curls her hands into talons, standing from her chair, skulking towards me and grinning menacingly.

“Korra, no.” I warn, slowly backing my chair from under the table, holding a napkin up in surrender.

“Nobody meatballs me in the face and lives to tell the tale,” Korra grins, looking wild-eyed. At first I think she’s joking, but then she dives straight for me and I instinctively dart back from the table, grab her arm and use her weight against her, flinging her over my shoulder until she’s belly up on the floor, landing with a loud grunt.

“Shit, sorry!” I stammer, quickly releasing her, but also backing away from her still-reaching fingers.

“You don’t beat me that easily, Sato,” she growls. I make a mental note to never feed her wine again. I don’t manage to evade the second pounce, and I giggle loudly like a damn child as she paws sauce all over my clothes. 

“Stop it, no, damn it that was expensive!” I say, in between hopeless fits of laughter. The next thing I know she’s managed to pin me, holding me by the wrists with her grubby sauce-drenched palms, straddling me with all of her weight just above my navel. “Korra, are you drunk?” I ask, smirking up at her.

“Barely tipsy. I do stuff like this all the time, sorry,” she says, grinning.

“Your’e sticky.” 

“Huh?”

“Your hands,” I tip my head back, eyeing upwards.

“Ah yeah, I should probably get washed up, sorry,” she smiles, releasing my now-sticky wrists from her grip. 

“You apologise too much,” I mutter.

“Sorry.”

 _Damn, she’s too cute._ Without even meaning to, I move my recently-freed hands straight to where I want them to be, to her waist, and she gasps at the contact.

“Ah, sorry,” I grimace in apology, figuring I got carried away, my mind regressing to the assumptions that this girl is probably as straight as she is gorgeous.

“Don’t apologise,” Korra smiles, standing up from me, “It’s just that you don’t really look the type.”

“The type?” I ask, sitting up, and raising an eyebrow.

“You know. Gay.”

“Bi actually, and I didn’t realise I had to _look_ a certain way,” I say, pouting.

“Uh yeah, sorry, that was a dumb thing to say. I’m just… surprised. In a good way,” Korra says, stretching her fingers out and looking at them in disgust, “I’m gonna use the bathroom quickly, why don’t you find us something to watch?”

“Oh, giving me orders now?”

“Just a suggestion, from one queer lady to another,” she says, flashing me that damn toothy grin again before closing the bathroom door.

 _Well that answers that one_ , I think, my heart racing as I change out of my rather sticky clothes, and into something more comfortable.


	6. Boiling

The bathroom door opens and Korra emerges, a fresh towel in her hands which she finishes drying them with.

“Uh, sorry about all that. I got carried away.”

“You can blame the wine if you want,” I say, smiling back at her.

“It’s true though - I never could handle alcohol!” she exclaims, then turns her back to me and pulls off her sweater. Her back is gorgeous, and so incredibly toned. It’s stunning. My mouth turns dry, I absent-mindedly lick my lips, and at that moment she tilts her head around just before slipping on her night shirt, smirking at me. Damn her. She knows she looks good, and she’s toying with me.

Perhaps somebody should have taught her that it’s dangerous to play with fire.

I casually ‘allow’ my duvet to slip down a little, making sure that my cleavage is on full view from the top of my nightgown, and then I hold her gaze, and brush my hair behind my shoulder. “You know…” I say, leaning onto my side, “we’re both trapped here for a while, and we’ll probably never see each other again…” I’m half-joking, teasing her, but then again, I wouldn’t dream of turning such a vision of a woman away from my bed, if she goes along with this. She tilts her head to one side, her expression unreadable, and a slight blush on her bronze cheeks.

“Well, it is cold outside…” she says, pretending to shiver. She hasn’t put on her pyjama bottoms yet, so she’s stood there in just a shirt and panties, and damn, it’s taking all of my self control to not drag her into my bed.

“It is,” I say, shifting myself to one side, and stroking my palm against a now-vacant spot on the mattress, “maybe we can keep each other warm?”

Korra doesn’t say much more, but she can’t conceal her grin as she quickly flicks the television to a music channel, throws the remote onto her bed, and slides under the blankets next to me.

She’s warm. I can feel her heat even though we’re not touching, and her deep blue eyes have never been this close to mine before. Funny, feels like I could lose myself in them. _It’s just one night_ , that’s what I tell myself when I bite my lip and rest a palm on her waist, just under her shirt. It’s just one night, so I can let loose and enjoy myself, enjoy this… enjoy her.

“You sure about this?” she asks, returning my gesture, placing her warm palm against my side.

“Never been surer. Can’t let a body like yours go to waste,” I say, looking her up and down again to accentuate my point.

She smiles, leans forwards and captures my lips with hers, and I feel a jolt of warmth rush through me, catching me completely off-guard, sending me dizzy but in the best possible way. She tastes so good, like honey and salt, and it’s like I melt into her, kissing her soft lips time after time, my heart thudding in my chest, from passion, from excitement, from something more… something I never imagined could be real.

When we break from the kiss, all I can do blush and stare into Korra’s eyes, feeling like a damn teenager all of a sudden. But from the way she’s looking at me, I know she’s realised the same thing that I have. It’s… funny how things turn out sometimes.

“You’re my…” she speaks the words shakily, clearly as shocked as I am.

“Soulmate,” I whisper, lacing my fingers with hers, seeking her lips, needing her closeness.

We’re told that a soul mate exists for each and every one of us, and if we’re lucky enough to find ours, we’ll just _know_. I thought such a thing to be nonsense, that love is love, passion is passion, and some people just get caught up in their own fantasy. They over-romanticise the whole thing, their feelings for one another, their whole relationship.

I was so wrong that I could almost laugh at myself. Maybe I will, later.

There’s a bright-hot burning in my chest, but not from pain, from love, from something _more_ than love.

It’s joy that I’ve found her, that I’ve found my person.

It’s pain the second I’m not kissing her, the moment we’re not touching, though we only pause to shed our clothes.

It’s ecstasy as I feel her skin hot and soft against mine, and I lace my fingers into her hair, deepening our kiss.

It’s passion, her mouth between my legs, sending waves of desire crashing through me, and after that, her voice breaking as she loses herself to my touch, to my hands, to my mouth.

It’s tenderness, her arms holding me close, her lips against my cheek, the blanket wrapped around us both.

It’s a feeling of being _home_ , falling into the calm blackness of sleep, my last waking feeling being how lucky I am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed (let me know!). I'm struggling to write at the moment, so sticking to small things while I recuperate.


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